Still Thy Beating Heart (Teaser!)
by Lack of Tact
Summary: The Union Aerospace Corporation or more commonly, the U.A.C., was a ghost; unseen and unheard of by all of Humanity except to those sworn to secrecy. The organization would have remained as such, had it not been for one mistake—their own. In discovering Argent, in experimenting on those they swore to protect, they had created him. Perpetual rage made flesh. The Slayer. Rated M


**_They_** _are rage, brutal, without mercy._

 _You **will** be worse; rip and tear._

 _Until it is done, **All** will fear the Reaper._

 _And Death cannot **die.**_

 **. . . . .**

Blood.

In the thick of it, that was all he could smell, taste, and breathe. It had become a constant companion in his quest for vengeance; not the blood of the innocent, but that of the damned souls that roamed this very station. It was not copper. It was not metal. It was ashen. Dry and repulsive. It drove him ever closer to his goal. He had come to ferry the abomination child of mankind back to the underworld from whence it came. Back to Hell, where it belonged. His labored breathing echoed in his ears. He could not tire, he would not rest. Until it is done.

The breech to his shotgun clicked in place, new shells replenishing its once-empty barrel, and he struck the back of the husk's skull. It seethed in an endless agony, brought upon it long before he had awoken. A failed creation, unable to do its master's bidding and so it continued on with its own devices. A cacophony of hellish wails filled the entirety of the lab and the man clad in eldritch armor lowered his weapon. He stared at the downed once-human, a sliver of sorrow stung at him. Not for the demon beneath his shadow, but for the person it used to be. He shrugged off this questionable feeling of remorse and pointed the barrel of his gun at the monstrosity before him. As it turned its head, he could imagine a whispered appreciation as he pulled the trigger.

Blue, tainted muck painted the deck of the laboratory and he stepped through it without a word; over the body, out of respect for the once-living. He approached the door at the end of the room, after having hours spent getting there, and stared at the familiar red symbol, the holographic emblem of the entire corporation that ran this building flashed repeatedly, slowly.

 _'Room Lockdown in Effect:_

 _Security Clearance Level Three Required to Proceed'_

The man almost casually glanced down to his left hand; a red key-card with someone's credentials was clasped tightly between his fingers. Murmuring and whimpers from a sole person echoed from behind the locked entryway and he cracked his neck. Several pops reverberated beneath his armor and he brought the key-card up to the scanner. Almost immediately, it flashed a solid green. Murmuring and whispers turned into vehement swearing and shouting as the door slid open.

He pushed through the items clustered at the entrance—a vending machine shoved onto its front quickly met one of the side walls and it spat various expired candies and snacks—and stared at the woman poking her head from behind her desk. She sucked harshly through her teeth, lowering her brunette covered head beyond his sight. _"S-shit, shit. Nonono, this can't be happening right now!"_ She whispered grimly to herself.

The man took another step forward and the footstep sounded off each of the walls in the confined space. The sound caused the woman to jump, knocking her head against the bottom of her desk and she swore under her breath once again. A few breaths could be heard, short and quick, before she popped her head up again, along with her whole body. In her hands, she held a small Kessler IV; a rudimentary pistol, nothing like that of the armored man's arsenal. Not that she would be seeing everything, anyway. She held it with shuddering breaths yet stilled hands, her aim as good as her willpower to stay alive. "T-take another step and-and I'll shoot! I know-I know what you did with Phillips and his team," she tried reasoning behind the barrel of her gun, "I'm not-not going to let that happen to me." She mumbled the last bit in a hushed tone, but it quickly raised again. "You're going to let me g-go or I-I'll kill you!"

He took a testing step forward and she fired at him. The shot panged off of his armor, only leaving a soot mark, and ricocheted elsewhere. Beneath his armor, he growled at the woman. She was testing his patience; he came here for answers and all he'd received was a station-wide bug infestation and now he has questions as to why _that_ is, too. He took another step and another shot came from the chamber of her gun. "Stay ba-back!" She screamed, her voice pitching at the last syllable as he made yet another movement. A third shot was fired.

And she only had five.

He gritted his teeth and glared at the girl. Though she could not see it, he knew she felt the weight it bore. The scent of urine replaced the congested scent of blood in his nostrils and he snarled. Disgusted with the woman, he grabbed the underside of the desk in front of him and tossed it aside as if it were nothing. The woman yelped. The name-plate landed at the man's feet and he took a step forward, crushing it seamlessly. Christine Patterson had been a bad woman. Experimenting with something out of anyone's and everyone's control; quite possibly _anyone_ here could be considered bad.

And since the husks that littered the station were once people... doubly so. Since she's the one who had signed off on the project. If only she hadn't have fired first; he would've asked questions before he killed her. Christine's arms and legs were shaking as she stared at the monstrously tall being before her, the pistol in her hands felt ten-times heavier and she couldn't hold onto it any longer. "I-I'll send you to Hell if I have to!" But she didn't believe her own words. The Kessler fell from her hands as did she onto her knees.

She had given up.

He raised his foot and pushed it into her. She fell onto her back from the shock and she quickly cowered behind her arms, murmurs sent under her breath in a hushed fit. Of her wanting to be spared from her demons, of her past sins. He would have none of it. His gravelly voice deadpanned from behind the nigh opaque glass of his helm, "I've been there."

He pressed his down even further, pretending as if her pushing against it would do anything. It gives them a sense of hope before he _crushes_ it before their very eyes. His weighted foot collided with the woman's skull, almost effortlessly as it pushed through the scientist's arms. Barely a scream escaped her before a sickening squelch sounded in its stead. Unlike with the unwilling husk before, this woman was tainted. He moved forward; the shattered nose-bone of the now deceased stuck itself to the bottom, outermost soles of the Slayer's boot—a trail of thick, bloodied prints followed in his wake.

There was one other person on this damned station. One who had the answers to his questions. In other words, this was their last chance. If they cannot justify what they have done. Then all of their work; all of their effort would be put to waste.

And them too, along with it.

* * *

 **Just a teaser for something much bigger; I wanted to get this out there and see what the reception of it would be. Well, regardless if it's good or bad, I'm still gonna continue it. Everyone who knows me knows I do shit like this all the time lmfao.**

 **If this becomes like, an actual thing, a project I can see myself working on, I'll remove the teaser tag and update the chapter so it actually goes along with what I have planned. And yes, before you ask, the scene you just read will actually take place in the story. This isn't the actual beginning.**

 **(Once I actually start the story, the summary will change significantly, as it's still a WIP)**

 **I appreciate comments as much as the next guy, just saying ;) LMFAO, I'm done, I'm done**

 **Anyway, that's that for, er, _that?_ As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**


End file.
